The whole family—parents, sisters, everyone—headed to the thermal spa today. Normally, it’s great: the spa’s on an island, surrounded by trees, and you can either go for a run or jump straight into the pool.
Some of us went running, others hit the open-air pool right away. It’s a beautiful spot, even in winter when it’s freezing. There’s fresh air, sunlight flickering through the trees, and just enough chill to make the warm water feel magical.
After an hour of exercise, we usually regroup for snacks and chill in the indoor thermal pools and saunas. But today, we skipped straight to the indoor pool. At first, it was amazing. Warm water, quiet chatter, and total relaxation. But then came the smell.
Thermal pools often smell a bit sulfuric because of the minerals, so I tried to ignore it. But it wasn’t just sulfur—it was… worse. I glanced around. No one else seemed bothered. Even the lifeguard looked relaxed, so I figured it was just me.
But the smell kept growing. My stomach started feeling weird. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. I glanced at the lifeguard again, and now he was looking at me. His face went from chill to concerned real fast.
Then I saw it. Right at the edge of the pool, where the water was lapping, was an enormous, unmistakable… poop. It was poised precariously where the water could still sweep it into the pool, as if it were teasing fate. Just sitting there, daring us to keep pretending everything was fine.
“OUT OF THE POOL!” I yelled. We bolted like a herd of panicked deer, splashing, slipping, and looking absolutely ridiculous. Other people stared, blissfully unaware of the lurking biohazard, while we scrambled to safety.
Once outside, we stood there, soaking wet, out of breath, on the verge of laughing and throwing up. Lesson learned: next time, snacks first. Always snacks first.
Moments ago, we’d been hungry and ready to relax, but now our stomachs had turned. We decided to sit down on the first floor of the spa, where we had a clear view of the pool. Sure enough, a few seconds later, we saw the lifeguard blowing his whistle and asking everyone to leave the water.
As the pool cleared, the lifeguard stood there, hands on hips, staring at the offending object like it had personally insulted him. We couldn’t help but wonder: who would be brave (or unlucky) enough to deal with that? One thing was certain—we were sticking to snacks and saunas from now on.
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